The Price of Freedom
by Cisselah
Summary: Seventeen years old and on his first date (with a scary girl with cold eyes), Edgar enlists a kid with grey eyes to distract her while he makes his escape.


**~*The Price of Freedom*~**

**_written by: Cisselah_**

**_(Beater 2)_**

**_written for_**_ Cearphilly Catapults_**_ in _**_The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition_

_**Prompts: 7, 10 & 13**_

_**~*-.-*~**_

In the Bones family, nobody disobeyed Mrs. Bones - although most of them wanted to. Despite being just over 5 feet tall with a spatula permanently plastered to her left hand, Mrs. Bones was the sole nightmare of her three children and strangely absent husband. What Mrs. Bones wanted you to do, you did - no questions asked. It wasn't that she didn't love her family. No, Mrs. Bones adored her children, but the problem was that she always thought she did the right thing and just couldn't take no for an answer.

Which was why Edgar Bones was currently cursing her very existence while his date stared at him with cold eyes.

Although Edgar was seventeen years old and considered an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world, this was his first date and so far it had been horrible. He had always imagined going on a date with someone he loved - Merlin's mumbling knee socks, he'd settle for someone he _liked - _and therefore he had never really bothered with all that dating stuff, preferring to leave it to his roommate Cale instead, whose social skills were much more admirable. He regretted that now. Maybe if he'd dated someone, his mother wouldn't have panicked about the possibility of her son staying single his entire life and set up a blind date with a _nice, pretty young lady from a respectable family_.

A _nice, pretty young lady from a respectable family _that was currently staring holes into the back of his skull.

"Where do you want to go?" Edgar asked Ms. Bellatrix Black in a voice that trembled from emotions best unmentioned. There was something about the look in his date's eyes that reminded him of a snake about to eat the mouse. He had an eerie feeling that she was about to eat, crush and then spit him out on the sidewalk to be stepped on by strange, homeless men.

She sniffed indignantly.

"Wherever you want to go," she said in an indifferent voice that rang with _pureblood _and _Slytherin _and _I'm-doing-as-you-say-not-because-I'm-obedient-but-because-I'm-waiting-for-the-right-moment-to-stab-you-in-the-back._

"Let's go to Flourish and Blotts. I need to buy a book from my sister's birthday," Edgar suggested as they weaved through the crowd of Diagon Alley. Black nodded distractedly as she trailed soundlessly after him. She did that a lot - act submissive. She stayed silent and small in the way the pureblood women of the old families had been taught to stay. _See but not heard, _seemed to be their motto_._ In a small corner of his mind, Edgar tried to imagine Josephine staying silent.

He couldn't help but to grin.

Josephine had been his best friend since they were six and he had never seen her speechless in his entire life. As a matter of fact, Edgar was quite sure Josephine was physically unable to shut up. She could talk for hours and often did so - to everybody (including the strange guy she stood next to in the elevator or the pigeon that was trying to steal her sandwich). Josephine was hotheaded, rash, stubborn, loud and totally insane.

In many ways, she was exactly like Mrs. Bones.

Mrs. Bones hated her.

"I'm just gonna go over here and fins a book. Stay here?" Despite his best efforts, the last two words came out as a plea or a question rather than a command. Black gave him a calculating look that made Edgar want to run screaming in the other direction. He had almost been a Gryffindor (the sorting had considered it for a lengthy amount of time before it finally concluded that Hufflepuff was the spot for Edgar) so he mustered up all his bravery and stood his ground. He even dared to give her a small smile before he took off towards the other end of the shop, and if his pace was a little faster then normal... well, who could blame him?

After making sure to find a spot that was invisible to Bellatrix Black's eye, Edgar settled for flipping through some random books on a shelf. His thoughts were racing, all of his magnificent brain trying desperately to find a way to escape. It had only been forty-five minutes, but Edgar was quite sure he was in the presence of an ice-cold Slytherin psychopath that probably killed kittens and ate children on her free time. She was beautiful - there was no question about that - but she had a cold sort of look in her eyes, like she might turn on you at any time for no other reason then you looked at her sideways.

Edgar swallowed thickly, trying not to imagine the short fight that would break out if she decided to do so. He'd been her dueling partner enough times during Defense Against the Dark Arts to know that Bellatrix Black was _lethal_ when it came to dueling.

"Why are you looking at '_600 Ways to Cook Garden Gnomes'_? Are you buying me a present? Because if you are, don't buy that book. I don't want that book. Are you buying me that book?" a bratty voice said from his right. Edgar turned to stare at his little sister.

"Amelia? What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I brought her!" Cale Summers replied from the other side of the bookcase. Edgar nearly jumped a mile as he turned with wide eyes. From between two thick volumes of ancient magical history, two big blue eyes stared at him from the other side.

"Cale? Cale?! Cale. What on Merlin's pants are you doing behind that Cale? Wait! Never mind that! What are you doing _here, Cale Summers?" _Cale looked hurt_._

"Me?" he exclaimed dramatically. "I'm just checking in on my socially awkward best friend, making sure he doesn't screw this up, you know?"

Edgar leaned over towards him and after making sure his little sister couldn't overhear, he asked the only question he could think of: "Why did you bring _her?"._

Cale gaped at him. "You kidding me? That kid is the devil reincarnated, Ed. I'm not kidding! The devil! She asked to come and I value my bits!" He shuddered as if someone had just walked over his grave.

"_Right_" Edgar said sarcastically.

"_Sure_" Cale replied with an equal amount of sarcasm.

"Wonderful"

"Fantastic"

"You guys do know that I can hear you," the tiny girl said with a frown.

"No. Yes. No. I mean, of course we do. What do you take us for, idiots? Don't answer that!" Edgar started to rub the bridge of his nose in a tired gesture. "Look, just go home, okay? I'm handling this just fine" _But I'm going to bail soon. _"I don't need your amateur advice on how to pick up girls, so just go. Right now, just go!"

"I'm telling Josephine" Amelia threatened vehemently.

"Go right ahead," Edgar told her, trying to ignore the way his heart lurched.

He grabbed a book and walked away. The title of the book turned out to be _'Twenty Cases In Front of the Wizengamot'_ and Edgar paid twelve sickles and a knut for it. It was worth it though, because there was no way Amelia would enjoy reading such a boring book. She'd probably cry when she saw the title, and if she didn't, she would at the sight of the torn pages and dirty cover.

Serves her right, Edgar thought grumpily.

"Are you done?" a silky voice inquired. Startled, Edgar snapped his head around was met with the sight of a haughty but submissive Bellatrix Black. Her dark locks were dangling freely in front of her face and her heavily hooded eyes were staring at him coldly. Dark, long eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked and for what might have been the hundred time, Edgar realized that she was quite beautiful.

"Ehh... I-... I... Yes?" Whether or not his stuttering depended on her beauty or ice-cold glare, Edgar didn't want to know. "Do you want to do anything special?"

"Ice cream, _please" _Black said with a voice that dripped of poisonous sweetness.

"Right," Edgar mumbled with a sinking feeling of dread.

They found _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour_ relatively easily through the crowd. It was packed full underneath the hot july sun, but after a couple minutes of weaseling and snarling, Edgar found them a seat underneath the burning sun. No shade, of course. Almost immediately after they sat down Bellatrix exused herself to go to the ladies room. Her cold eyes glittered in the sun, almost giving him frostbites with their freezing calculation. Edgar had never before been so grateful for bodily functions such as the urge to urinate.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit. _Edgar thought as he watched her leave._ Think, Ed, think! You got seven O's for Merlin's sake, don't let a Slytherin princess beat you down._

_Morgana's Mouldy Munchkins. Mum... I hate you._

"What an unpleasant young lady," the old man from the table next to Edgar's said in a bemused voice. "She looked like she wanted to kill you with her bare hands!"

"I know..." mumbled Edgar miserably.

"Maybe you should sneak away while you have the chance," the old man hinted at. The old man was in his late fifties to early sixties, his raven hair windswept and unkempt, his hazel eyes twinkled merrily from behind his glasses and he wore an expensive robe that told Edgar he was rich enough to buy himself an island somewhere far away.

Sometimes Edgar wished he could buy an island far away, but his mother would never allow it.

"I can't," Edgar told the old man. "Because she didn't go to the lavatory. She went inside to talk to Rabastan Lestrange. I can see her from the window. She'll see me if I run" He shuddered. He hated to think of what Black would do if he insulted her by running away.

Probably something horrible and psychotic.

"Then make her run away first," the old man suggested kindly. "That way she can't complain when you do it yourself"

Edgar stared at him for a few seconds.

"Are you a Slytherin?" he asked suspiciously.

The old man burst into laughter.

Turning away from the laughing old man (who was currently almost choking on his saliva), Edgar scanned the street of Diagon Alley for something to use to get out of here - quickly. He had spent forty-eight and a half minutes with scary Black and there was no way he spent one more moment in her company. Unbidden, the stories about the Black family rose in his mind. If his father was still alive, he'd never let Edgar's mother set this date up. _We don't go near the Blacks, _he would have said. _Just like we don't go near a sleeping dragon._

"Hey, kid!" Edgar hissed to a dark-haired child that was running down the street like his ass was on fire and he had scorpions in his pants. The kid's expression was one of mischief and mayhem, so Edgar reached out and grabbed the back of the little kid's robes, holding him in place as the kid started to struggle and swear and squirm. He was pretty good at it and Edgar was faintly impressed by the profanities spilling from the kids voice.

"Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy. You want to earn some money?" the kid went instantly still. He glanced up at Edgar with grey eyes like storm clouds.

"I'm listening," the kid said.

"You see that lady inside? The pretty one with the crazy eyes? Well, she's here with me and I can't take another minute of it. Make her run away and I'll give you a sickle," The kid tilted his head in a doglike manner. He narrowed his eyes determinedly.

"Five," he told Edgar.

"Excuse me?" Edgar was pretty sure his expression was hilarious.

"Five sickles, or no deal," the kid said with a grin.

"Two sickles" Edgar offered through gritted teeth.

"Five sickles" the kid said unrelentingly.

"Three sickles"

"Still five sickles"

"Four sickles"

"You want me to make that scary girl in there go running in the other direction? Five sickles, mate. Nothing less." Edgar swore colorfully.

"Four sickles and two knuts. That's all I have, kid," he told the kid. The boy shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, his shaggy, dark hair falling into his grey eyes as he gave Edgar a '_seriously?' _look.

Edgar swore again.

"Kids these days!" he muttered under his breath as he started to go through his robes after something of value. He put the money on the table, the silver and bronze coins glittering in the sun as Edgar mumbled curses that would have made his mother wash his mouth with a long _scourgify. _Finally his slender fingers closed around something round, sharp and long. He pulled it out triumphantly and held it up for the kid to see.

"What on Merlin's pink nipples is that?" the kid burst out as he stared at the object in Edgar's hands with wide eyes.

"This... This is _pencil_. It's a muggle thing, I got it from my crazy aunt Magda" Edgar explained proudly.

At the word '_muggle', _the kid's face lit up like a Christmas tree. He leaned forward, his storm cloud grey eyes shining with excitement as his hands twitched with kleptomaniac urges. He let out a breath of awe as he stared the pencil like it was his new God. It was clear that the kid would grow up to be one of those wizards that enjoyed collecting muggle things.

"What does it do?" he asked Edgar.

"Eh..." _Oh mugshots. What did aunt Magda say it was again? Quick, Edgar, come up with something. You got an O in Divination, it shouldn't be that hard! _"Well... Ehh... As you can see... it's... it's... it's a muggle torture device"

"Really?"

"Yupp. Straight from a muggle torture camp called High School. They use it to make people do things they don't want to do. It's... very efficient," He was going to hell. There was no  
question about it.

There was a brief silence as the kid stared at it with awe in his eyes, but when he looked up again all emotion was wiped from his eyes except for a lingering prediction of trouble.

"We have a deal," he told Edgar, collected the coins and pencil and took off into the crowd. Soon all trace of him had disappeared.

"Hey! Wait! Wait! Where are you going?! Where are you going with my money, you little punk?! And... typical..." _Wonderful, conned into giving his money to a little kid that couldn't be more than eight. This day just couldn't get any worse._

"I apologize from the delay. Did you stop my ice cream from melting?"_ I just had to say anything._

"Ms. Black. It's nice to... ehh... see you," Edgar smile was slightly strained as he watched Black sit down elegantly in her chair. Her expression was proud and _pureblood_.

"Believe me, Mr. Bones, I wish I could say the same thing" _Ouch. That hurt. _

Edgar swallowed and concentrated on his ice cream. It's delicious goodness was melting, but somehow Edgar couldn't bring himself to eat it. He was afraid that it would get stuck in his tight throat and choke him to death.

Death by ice cream... Well, there could be worse ways to go.

Edgar took a deep breath and shoved a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

"Hey, Black! Isn't that you're cousin?" A familiar voice called. Choking on his mouthful of ice cream, Edgar slapped a hand against his chest several times to clear his airways. He looked up and almost choked again.

Across the street, a small dark-haired kid with grey eyes was trying to stab his mother with a pencil. He was hanging by his robes, pencil raised high and ominously, his eyes glittering with mad glee as he screamed; "For all muggles! For all muggles!" His mother, an angry woman that looked like she was about to erupt like a volcano, held him away from her face with a one hand and a big, purple bag with the other. She seemed almost frozen in place by rage and her face was slowly turning purple.

He heard Black's gasp rather than saw it. He was much to busy watching the eight year old Sirius Black taking a wild stab that ripped the purple bag open and made a bunch of suspicious looked objects (was that a dungbomb?) fall out. On the street people were stopping to watch the spectacle unfold.

"Rawr!" the kid roared. "The ugly hag has seized the treasure! The muggle is captive by her ugly paws! Unhand me, you witch, or taste the power of the supreme muggle-y!"

_Holy Hippogriffs._

"If I were you," Josephine said pleasantly. "I'd run out there and make sure he didn't shame your family any further - or murder his mother"

Bellatrix Black was out of her seat and gone in a heartbeat. From far away in the crowd that had gathered Edgar could hear her shrill voice angrily scream; "_Put that filthy muggle weapon down right now, Sirius Black! I'm going to kill you_!"

Swallowing deeply, Edgar turned to his best friend. In his chest, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her standing there, redheaded, tall and utterly pissed off.

"You're lucky your sister told me what was going on. We're leaving now," Josephine told him matter-of-factly. "And then I'm going to curse you so bad you won't be able to sit down for a month" She turned and left without waiting for a answer.

Edgar stared.

The old man wiped the tears from his eyes.

"This is the best laugh I've had for years," he informed Edgar. "So let me give you some advise, son. Run after you're girlfriend there," he held up one hand to silence Edgar's growing protests, "take whatever she throws at you like a man and nod prettily and say _thank you, miss" _he leaned over conspiratorially. "You can't win when arguing with an angry witch, son, you'll only end up in St: Mungo's for the trouble, so just keep your head down and hope it'll blow over. That's what I do with my wife,"

"Thank you, sir," Edgar said with a feeling of slow dread.

"Son, I was you I'd get out of here now. Not only will that horrible girl come back soon, but I doubt she'll be happy if you let that lovely girl of yours wait" the old man smiled toothily. "And please, call me Mr. Potter"

~*-.-*~

**The End.**


End file.
